


Milestones

by Gwenhwyfar1984



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Domestic Violence, Drama, F/M, Romance, Sexual Content, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-15 18:20:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3457160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gwenhwyfar1984/pseuds/Gwenhwyfar1984
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl and Carol start a relationship at the prison and go through a series of firsts. Set between seasons 3 and 4.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The Walking Dead is the property of AMC Studios, Circle of Confusion, Darkwood Productions, Valhalla Motion Pictures and possibly other large companies. I am in no way connected to these companies. I Do Not Own.
> 
> This is less one continuous fanfic and more a series of small fics that show different turning points in their relationship.

Carol finished cleaning the grill and wiped her hands on a cloth. It was getting dark, but she was lingering, enjoying being alone. It had started to rain halfway through the dinner shift, lightly battering the tarp they had set up. It brought a clean smell to the air. The ever present faint scent of walker decay was briefly washed away.

 

She put the cleaning supplies away and prepared to head in for the night. The rain was now harder, large drops hitting the ground. She was pretty sure everybody else was inside their blocks, staying dry. The prison business was done for the day. She stepped out from under the cover and instinctively started to run for the entrance to C Block. After a few steps she stopped, raising her face to the sky. It was a warm rain, so it didn’t chill her. It was nice, refreshing even. 

 

“The hell you doing?”

She opened her eyes and turned towards the voice. Daryl was watching her with a bewildered expression on his face. She bit back a laugh and shook her head. “Nothing. Why are you out here?”

“My watch shift ended. Really, what are you doing?” His voice had changed from confusion to curiosity as he approached her.

She crossed her arms and went back under the tarp. Smiling slightly she looked at the ground. There was no way that he would understand. It was stupid. “I’m making a choice.”

“Huh?”

“What did we normally do when it would start to rain? We would run, right? Find the nearest shelter and clear it out to wait for the rain to stop?”

“Course.”

“Well…I realized that I don’t have to run. I can enjoy it knowing I can go inside to my room. I can change my clothes and don’t have to wait for these to dry.” She shook her head. 

“Stupid, I know.”

“Nah. It’s nice.” At her curious look he shrugged. “You finally feel safe. That’s a good thing. Means this place is starting to feel like a home.”

Yeah, it was. Slowly they were getting more supplies, and not just strictly needed ones. There was talk of getting a generator and making this place have power. The garden was coming along nicely.

 

Daryl nudged her shoulder. “I wouldn’t stay out here too long though.”

She smiled and looked at him. He was soaked, and water was dripping off his hair. It was a very attractive sight, and she felt her heartbeat increase and a tingly, anxiety feeling entered her chest. As a distraction, she said the first thing to enter her mind. “Are you gonna cut your hair?”

He blinked at the question. “Huh?”

She bit back a laugh. Daryl was normally unable to follow her line of thinking, but not tonight. It was nice. “Your hair. It’s getting kinda long.”

“Haven’t really thought about it. Been thinkin about other stuff.” He muttered.

“If I can think about rain, you can think about hair. If you wanna cut it I have scissors.”

“That why yours is still so short?”

“Maybe.”  


He chuckled. “Suits you. I kinda like mine.”

She reached out and took a lock of it between her fingers. He didn’t pull away. “It’s not bad.” 

 

She let go of the hair and let her fingers linger on his temple. She wanted to kiss him; had wanted to for a while. She just wasn’t sure how he would respond. There had been flirting, mostly on her side. She had been testing the mood, seeing if he was responsive. He seemed more embarrassed and unsure of it than anything. He would tell her to stop, but it was usually accompanied by a small smile. So she would do it again.

 

Maybe it was the rain, or maybe it was her good mood, but she decided to go for it. She let her fingers trail down his face, licked her lips, and leaned up, very lightly pressing her lips to his.

He seemed surprised, and for a moment didn’t respond. She was about to pull back, humiliation beginning to form, when he returned the kiss. He was hesitant, and a little unsure. His hands came up and he cupped her face, making the kiss a little firmer.

They broke apart but still stood close. His hands moved to her waist, and she held onto his shoulders as they kissed a second time, the hesitation gone. His lips were firm and warm and perfect. It was brief, but not bad.

 

When they pulled apart this time he took a few steps back. “You should get in, get dry.” His quiet tone had returned and he wouldn’t look at her. She just nodded and followed him into the building.


	2. First Dance

Rick called it stupid. Beth called it cute. Maggie called it the strangest form of foreplay she had ever heard of. Glenn called it the War of C Block. Michonne didn’t comment. Tyreese and Sasha didn’t care. Hershel just chuckled and stayed out of it.

The two people involved didn’t call it anything. It just was.

 

Daryl came out of his cell; swear words pouring from his mouth. He knew where she would be. It was the same place she was every seven days: standing at a table with freshly dried laundry in front of her, waiting to be folded.

* * * *

“Hey.” Carol appeared in the doorway of his cell, a bin in her arms. “You have any dirty clothes?”

He was adjusting his bow, getting ready to go out to hunt. “Yeah. Why?”

She held out the bin. “I’ll do it. I’m also doing Michonne, and the Grimes’s.”

It was such an innocent offer, yet it made him slightly angry. “You don’t have to do that stuff.”

She shrugged. “I don’t mind. It needs to be done. Beth and Glenn are taking care of everybody else’s.”

He looked down at his pile of clothing and winced. It just felt wrong to have her do it. “Nah, that’s ok.”

She shifted the bin. “Daryl…is my laundering not up to your standards?” Her voice was cool.

Shit…he didn’t have standards. If it fit and wasn’t so full of filth that it was almost alive, it was fine.

Carol took great pride in the ways that she could help the group. She should. Sensing his defeat, he placed the pile in the bin. Just this once he would give in.

* * * *

He hurried down the stairs and through the Block. The other members of his group watched this, amused. They knew what was going on, and wanted to see who won this round.

It wasn’t that she didn’t do a good job. She did an excellent job. It was just…she wasn’t his mother. Not that his mother had really done laundry much; only when his father got at her about it.

And Carol wasn’t his wife. Not that he would expect his wife to—he wasn’t that kind of—damn it!

The point was that Carol should not be washing his dirty things, especially now that they had kissed.

* * * *

It became a silent battle of wills. After that first time she had done his laundry, he made a point to get the next pile washed before laundry day. She hadn’t said anything, just silently surveyed him, taking in the walker blood still staining his shirt. He could almost hear the silent laughter. He had to admit that his temper was a little shorter than usual for a few days.

After that, Maggie had shown him how to get the stains out, and he did well for a few weeks.

 

Until the time he had to hurry to go on a run. He had just shoved everything under his bunk.

He had returned to find her crouched down, piling everything in her bin. He was so shocked at her invading his space that he didn’t protest.

As she left she gave him The Look. The one that lets a man know that he is being an idiot and the woman is Not Impressed.

* * * *

She did it again this week. He went out to clean out the cars and then check the snares. He came back to find the pile missing. He had seen a line of clothing drying in the hot sun, but didn’t check it. There was almost always a line drying. Things dried quick, but with so many people…

 

This was why he found himself heading to the laundry room. He approached the door ready to yell when he heard her quiet voice. Had someone finally offered to help?

No, he had seen almost everyone at one place or another in the prison. Maybe one of the people from D Block was getting theirs started?

Pushing down the anger enough that he would make a scene—he was trying to control himself more—he went to enter the room…and stopped in the doorway.

 

She had her back to him and was sorting the large pile by person. Those headphones that went in the ears were firmly in place, and a cd player was on the table next to her.

What surprised him was that she was quietly singing to the music. It was a quiet song, country. The words were about two people laying somewhere and enjoying a nice, peaceful day. No thinking about the future, just that day. As he watched she started to sway to the beat as she folded.

Her voice wasn’t professional quality, but it was nice. He leaned against the doorjamb, listening. She seemed happy and he found it attractive. Not like he wanted to pick her up and do it on Rick’s t-shirts.

Although a part of him wanted to place his hands on those swaying hips…

No, he liked seeing her like this. All of the worries momentarily pushed from her mind, lost in the music. Happy. Free.

He wished that he was the one that was causing it. Or at the very least, he wished that the part he had in it was more than his laundry.

 

Panic moved from his chest through his body as he realized that he wanted to make her happy. He wanted to be with her. He had enjoyed the kiss, and wanted to do it again. 

Possibly even more.

Damn. He had sworn a long time ago that he would not get involved with a woman. Nothing more than a quick few hours together and then move on.

He didn’t want that with her. She wasn’t that type of woman, and she deserved better. He wanted to be a part of that better.

 

He straightened and entered the room, acting like he had just arrived. He had a feeling that nobody else knew about this, and that she probably would stop if she was found out.  


“Daryl! How long have you been here?” Her face faintly colored.

“Just got here.” He lied.

She picked up his unfolded pile and handed it to him with an exasperated sigh. He gave her an annoyed look and stalked off, but not missing her faint smile. He couldn’t help an identical smile as he headed back to his cell.

 

“Who won?” Glenn asked. “Is the War finally over?” Maggie joined him, looking just as interested.

“Nope.” Daryl answered, moving past them as he headed for the stairs.

“Told you.” Maggie said quietly.

Now, Daryl didn’t want to win. She needed those few moments alone, and he wasn’t going to take them from her.


	3. First Gifts

It happened again. Carol knew it the minute Daryl stepped out of the car. His face, instead of just plain exhaustion was shut down. He was showing no emotions; nothing to indicate how he felt. He and Glenn were the only ones to exit the car…the two newcomers who had gone on the run were not there.

Nobody asked what happened. Nobody needed to. The blood—and not just walker blood—on their clothing told the whole story.

The mood was, of course, more subdued for a few days. Everybody went on with their lives because they had to. If they stopped to mourn every person who died, they would never get anything done.

Daryl was another story. He did what he needed to, but he was more than subdued. He had withdrawn from completely from everybody. That could not happen, and not just because she enjoyed…whatever it was they had.

 

She took a lantern and blanket from the supplies and went to find Daryl. He saw her approach but didn’t greet her. She gave him an appraising look, and gestured with her head. “Come on.”

She led him into the empty administration building. It had been cleared, but was unused, and hadn’t been wired for power. There was an empty room that apparently used to be a file room. It was empty except for cabinets, a table. They had found the room a week earlier while searching for a place to be alone together.

“I’m not in the mood—“ Daryl protested when they reached the room.

She interrupted him a glare. “Do you honestly think I brought you here for that?” She set the blanket on the floor. “Sit?”

He did and she closed the door, turning off the lantern and plunging them into darkness.

“Why are we here?” His voice was rough, almost belligerent.

“Because you need to be.”

“What?”

“You don’t want to be around people right now. I get that. But we need you. So here. Be alone, do what you need to do.”

He scoffed but didn’t get up. She could hear him moving around a little and then a deep sigh. “Whatever.”

She had her hand on the doorknob when she heard out of the darkness “Don’t go.”

 

He didn’t speak after that. He didn’t even seem to move. It was completely silent in the room except for the sound of their breathing. She didn’t know how long she sat there, but she didn’t mind. Hopefully this would help him in some way.

He cleared his throat. “They shouldn’t have been out there.”

“Hmm?”

“They shouldn’t have gone. Never been on a run before. Didn’t know how to work together.”

“Oh.” She kept her comments simple, thinking that he wasn’t really talking to her, but out loud.

“Knew they shouldn’t have gone, but they insisted. Went against my judgment. It’s my fault.”

“Bullshit.” She responded, simply stating a fact, not accusing in any way.

He didn’t contradict her, or try to start a fight. He just went silent again.

“I barely knew them. They had only arrived two weeks ago. Rick brought them.”

At least they had been safe for a little while. But it would never be over. Ever. The minute they step outside those fences—hell at the fences—the danger was back.

He knew that. They all did. It was easy to get caught up in the safe feeling that this place now had.

“Yeah.”

 

“We need training.” He sounded a little better now. His voice was less harsh. “Nobody goes out unless they know how to follow orders. Be a team.”

“Should bring it up to the council...” She suggested carefully. She resisted feeling hopeful. He seemed to be out of himself. Thinking about the future was a good sign.

“Yeah.”

There was shuffling and a moment later the lantern came back on. He looked better, and he held his hand out to help her up.

“Thanks.” He muttered.

****

He was definitely back. It had taken about a week, and slowly he had returned to normal. He was friendlier, the sarcastic humor was back. He even returned to finding ways to improve everyone’s lives at the prison. Even their relationship had returned to the way it had been before.

 

Which was why he was pulling her into the file room and kissing her. She laughed and nudged the door closed with her foot.

She knew that she should feel embarrassed about making-out like a woman twenty years younger than herself. But she had been denied this kind of enjoyment for years. It was nice to have it now…nice to be desired and have fun. Nice to be distracted for a little while from the horror of the world.

 

He slid his hands over her sides before pulling her a little closer. She responded by linking two fingers in his belt and tugging him completely against her. Groaning, he pushed her back, kissing her deeply.

 

The minute her back hit the wall she felt momentary panic, but tried to push it away. Her hands slid up his back, and she tried to stay in the moment.

He seemed to sense the change in her mood and gently kissed her chin, then the side of her neck until he reached her collarbone.

It didn’t matter because he was still pressed against her, and her back was still against the wall.

This was Daryl, not Ed she tried to remind herself. Nothing bad was going to happen.

Her heart beat harder and her breath came in short gasps.

But it shouldn’t. He smelled of soap, not beer and peanuts.

His hand caressed her side, her arm, and she flinched.

He was trying to soothe her, but her mind was telling her that she was in danger. Distantly she heard his voice, but couldn’t focus on it. She slid her hands between them, roughly pushing him back. Quickly, she moved away from the wall to the center of the room.

 

Once he was out of her space she started to calm down. She closed her eyes tight. She didn’t want to see the look on his face.

“What just happened?” Daryl asked, his voice quiet.

She shook her head. She didn’t want to tell him. There was no way that he would understand.

“Hey.” He very lightly, very briefly touched her shoulder. “What’d I do?”

Opening her eyes, she saw that he didn’t seem angry but concerned. Maybe it was just the dim lantern light…

“You didn’t do anything.” She said, averting her eyes and hugging herself. She was shaking and hated it.

“Apparently I did.” He backed up and leaned against the table, waiting.

He deserved some kind of explanation. “I don’t…I don’t like to feel trapped like that.” She told him, refusing to elaborate.

“Oh.” He nodded and studied her. “Why didn’t you reach for your knife?”

“What?” She asked, caught off guard by the question.

“Walkers got you pinned like that you go for your knife…”

Damn it. He knew. He would never outright say it, but he knew. She hung her head in shame but immediately raised it. She was done being ashamed of her past. It happened, she survive it.

“I know you’re not him. I just don’t like being pinned. A part of me thinks I’m gonna get hit...or, or something. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” He straightened up and took a few steps towards her. “I do something you don’t like, let me know.”

“Ok…”

“I’ll let you know too. I never wanna make you feel that way. That part of your life is over.”

“Thank you.”


	4. First Jealous Episode

He knew that he did not have any right to feel the way that he did. He couldn’t help it. The man was a pretentious ass.

Too bad he was the only one who saw it.

The ass in question was named Maximillian Alexander III. And he did not go by Max. It was Maximillian.

He had not seemed pretentious at first. He was able to convince Daryl to bring him in. How many walkers? Too many to count. How many people? Three. Why? They had been bit.  
Ok, good. He didn’t seem crazy or like he would betray anyone. So he was allowed in.

 

It was after the shower and several days of rest that Maximi—fuck it—Max’s true nature came out.

Daryl first started to get suspicious when Max was brought before the council. He just seemed too confident. Usually people were a little shy, a little wary. Not Max.

“So what did you do before, Maximillian? Anything that you think could help here?”

“I was a sous chef at a restaurant.” Max told them.

Whatever a sous chef was. He was about to ask when Carol sat forward in her seat. “Really?”

Max had looked at her and, after looking her up and down, an appreciative look was in his eyes. “Yes.”

“What kind of food?”

“Barbecue, stews, soups. Filling food.”

She sat back and looked at the others. “I’ll take him.”

Hershel chucked, but that statement wormed its way under Daryl’s skin. Just the way she said it, all pleased.

“How’d you survive?” Daryl asked.

“Pardon?” Max responded.

“Out there. You’re a chef. How’d you survive?”

Max gave a small grin. “Well, as a chef I’m very good with knives.” That caused a small chuckle from everybody else. “And my uncle was a wilderness survival trainer. Black sheep of the family. He taught me a lot.”

“Uh huh.” Daryl nodded and vowed to keep an eye on the man.

“Well if that’s true, then maybe you can work with Daryl on training newcomers.” Sasha suggested. Great, Sasha. Thanks.

“That’s a good idea.” Hershel seconded.

“Maybe. First I wanna see if he needs training himself.” Daryl answered, making sure they knew this was non-negotiable.

 

He passed. Despite the odds the man was able to use weapons and work with a group. So he ended up being Daryl’s assistant in training the newcomers. This was fine because everybody seemed to like him. He was friendly, patient. He gave more praise that Daryl usually did. They learned quickly.

And Carol? Well she was definitely a fan of his. That first evening Max helped her to make a stew instead of the stir fry she had planned

“Oh no. This cut of venison? Definitely would add a lot more flavor to a stew. What kind of vegetables do you have?”

Shitty thing was it turned out to be a damn good stew. So was his oatmeal, his barbecue and yes, even his stir fry.

 

So now Daryl sat at a table in the outdoor kitchen working on his bow and subtly watching the two of them prepare dinner. They were talking quietly, and occasionally laughing. It made Daryl’s insides churn. She normally wasn’t that openly friendly with people. She wasn’t stand offish, but she wasn’t so…happy.

And then he saw it. Max very lightly touched her on the shoulder.

Carol was not a touchy person. She very clearly had her personal space and everybody who knew her made sure to respect it.

“New guy seems to be working out.” Rick commented, coming up from the garden.

Daryl got up from the table and followed Rick. “Yeah. Very well.” Rick glanced at him, looked back at the grill, and then chuckled. “What?”

“Nothin.” Rick answered, but still had that smug, knowing smile on his face.

Daryl wanted to let it go, but something made him continue. “Just say it.”

“Tell her.”

“Tell who what?” Daryl demanded. Did Rick know? They had been trying to keep it a secret. Not because of shame, but because it was nobody’s damn business.

Judging by the look Rick gave him, the secret was out. Rick just looked behind him again and then continued into C Block, Daryl following a little bit behind.

 

The more he saw them working together, the more he realized that maybe; just maybe, this Max was better suited to her than he was. Man liked cooking, spoke well, and, judging from the comments he had overheard, was good looking.

And it made him feel like shit.

So he made the decision to keep away. If that was what she wanted, who was he to stop it?

Who was he compared to Max anyway.

 

“Hi.” Carol greeted as she walked up to him doing an inventory of the supplies needed for the cars.

“Hey.” He didn’t even look up at her, just concentrated on counting brake fluid bottles.

“Haven’t seen you much. You alright.”

He finally looked at her. “Been busy.” He nodded towards Max who was examining cucumber plants. “You’ve been busy.”

“I—“ She looked back at Max and crossed her arms. “You don’t like him.”

“Not as much as some people.” He answered and started counting bottles of oil.

“You…you think I’m interested in him?” She asked after a few moments, incredulous.

“Ain’t ya?” Daryl marked that they needed more oil. “He’s more like you than I am.”

“You’re…” She gave a mirthless laugh. Sighing, she shook her head. “Why do you think I’m more like him?”

He wiped his hands on a cloth and didn’t say anything. He wasn’t about to give her a detailed list. It would just be more of a humiliation. It was bad enough that he had actually believed that he had any kind of chance with her.

Giving her a dirty look to cover up his thoughts, he closed the door to tower three and moved on to his next job of making sure the cars were working well.

“He’s an ass.” She finally told him after watching Daryl work for a while.

“What?” Yeah, he was. But—“You’ve been having fun.”

She shrugged. “He’s a good cook. He knows it. I like his ideas, but he keeps correcting me.” She looked down at the ground, seeming uncomfortable. “I didn’t go to school for it but I’m a damn good cook. So I put up with it so I can learn.”

“Really?” He refused to get his hopes up.

“Yeah.” She looked at him now. “I told him no, by the way.”

It took him a second to realize what she was talking about. So it hadn’t all been in his mind. Max was interested in her.

But she had said no.

“Huh.”

He set down his wrench and joined her leaning against the car. Taking Rick’s advice he spoke to the ground. “Don’t want you being with other men.”

“Don’t want you being with other women.” She countered.

Who else would want to? Yeah, there were women who very obviously let it be known that they would be willing, but they treated him like some kind of celebrity or something. He wasn’t.

“Alright.”

“Alright.” She gave his hand a squeeze and left him to his car.


	5. First Time

Free time was in short supply for a few weeks. Building and improving the prison had taken up most of people’s time. By the time night came everybody gratefully climbed into their beds, the only thoughts being sleep.

As such, their relationship had to be put on hold a little. The only time that they were able to be alone together were for a few seconds at night before they both went to sleep. The prison was more important though, so they didn't really mind.

 

Finally, things started to slow back to normal. You could feel the tension of the community fade as the newcomers settled into their new roles, and everyone enjoyed the improvements. Carol loved the new outdoor grill and sitting area.

The residents of C Block gathered together in the seating area to enjoy the success of their work.

“It’s finally come together.” Hershel claimed, looking out at the now vast garden. “Should be able to harvest some things soon.”

“You did a really good job Daddy.” Maggie sounded so proud. Hershel obviously was too. He was finally able to put some of his non-medical expertise to use.

Carol sitting with Daryl next to her. He was close enough that the slightest movement made them bump into each other.

“Pigs have finally stopped trying to get out. I think getting piglets was the smart move.” Rick explained.

She could feel the warmth and sturdiness of his body. She was concentrating on the conversations, but a part of her mind was keenly aware of his every movement.

“The training classes are working out.” Daryl spoke up. “People aren't making stupid mistakes anymore.”

“Story time is a hit. Kids and their parents love it.” She informed everyone.

“It was a good idea.” Rick complimented, giving Carl a pointed look.

Talk turned to less important things and it was a nice change. Everyone was in high spirits when they started to turn in for the night.

 

After a shower, instead of changing into her sleepwear, she put in clean, regular clothes and waited. Her book was just getting interesting when she heard Daryl’s footsteps coming down the walkway. He paused for a moment in his cell before leaving again. When he was returning she exited her cell and tilted her head a little in question. He nodded and started walking back the other way.

 

They reached the room and the door had barely closed and been locked before he had her in an embrace. All she could think was that it had been far too long. Her hands moved between them and she unfastened his shirt, fumbling with a few buttons before she was able to pull it off. His hands slid under her shirt before he tugged off and tossed it on the floor. She was very glad she only wore one tank, instead of her usual layers.

 

He pushed her backwards until her legs hit the edge of the table. Bracing her hands, she hopped up and sat on the edge. His lips moved down her neck, and she tilted her head back so he could move to her throat. His lips were firm and gentle, as his hands traveled up her sides and over her bra. He tugged the straps down, giving him better access. His callused hands were rough on her sensitized skin and the feeling made her restless. She ran her hands over his back, trying to urge him on, to relieve the tension that was building with every touch, every kiss. 

 

It grew worse when he pushed her down, his mouth and hands moving over her body; his stubble lightly scratching her skin. But it wasn't what she needed, it wasn't enough. 

Gripping his shoulders, she pulled him up.

She tangled her fingers in his soft, damp hair and deeply kissed him. He tasted of mint toothpaste. Her leg came up, and she hooked it behind him, pulling him closer. The contact broke through the haze in her mind, alerting her that they were on the edge and would not be able to go back after this. Ignoring everything her body was telling her, she broke the kiss and sat up, leaning her head against his shoulder.

“Wanna stop?” He asked, his voice tense, his breathing heavy.

Did she? No…and yes.

She didn't want to lose him. He was the best friend she had. For some strange reason, they had clicked. If she was to lose that, and all because she wanted sex, it would be devastating.

No, it wasn't just that she wanted sex. If that were the case, Maximillian would have been more than happy to help there. No, she wanted Daryl, and not just physically. She didn't allow herself to examine just what that meant.

“Do you?”

“No.” He sounded so sure. It didn't seem like he had any doubts.

“Me either.” She told him, pushing her doubts away. They wouldn't leave completely.

“Sure?”

“Yeah.”

 

He helped her down from the table and pulled the blanket out of a file cabinet and laid it on the floor. Now it was less about need—although that was there—and more about learning what he liked and didn't, and letting him know the same. The playfulness of their previous activities changed to something deeper and that fact added to her doubts. Yet right before all coherent thought was impossible, they left.

 

As they lay in the dark, breathing returning to normal and bodies cooling, the doubts returned. She had turned onto her side and placed her hand on his shoulder. He had jerked away. She sat up and began to gather her clothing, ignoring the pain in her chest.

“Shit.” He whispered. She winced and pulled on her underclothes. She wasn't going to apologize, or even speak.

She pulled on her tank, her back to him. There was rustling and then his hand was on her back. “Carol…I didn't mean…”

“It’s ok.” She looked over her shoulder and gave him a false smile. “I understand.”

“Stop. I don’t regret it.” She could tell that there was more, but he didn't want to, or couldn't say it.

Looking him in the eyes, she saw a vulnerability that she hadn't seen before. But she had felt it. Turning, she sighed. “I do understand. This doesn't change anything.”

“Yeah it does.”

“Not if you don’t want it to.”

He stayed silent and she didn't press him any further.


	6. First Fight

“You’re not going.” Daryl insisted for what was the tenth time in half a week.

“Yes, I am.” Carol replied, slinging her rifle over her shoulder. Without a backwards glance she pushed past him onto the walkway. “This has been arranged for a week.” Her voice was calm as though he was the one not listening to reason.

“Things have changed since then.” He reminded her, staying quiet as he tried to make sure that anybody left inside C Block couldn't overhear them.

He had never imagined that they would change this much. But then everything had changed since they had started this relationship. Not all of it in good ways.

“Barely. I am perfectly capable of doing this.” Her voice was a low hiss.

He forced himself to not give in to the irritation that had been building since he saw her this morning. That would not help. She needed to see reason, and attacking her would not do it. “I never said you ain’t. Just that you're not gonna.” He raised his bow and she pulled it out of his hands. The irritation changed to anger. “Carol…”

From the look on her face, he was very glad that the bow was not loaded. “You are not going to keep me here like a good little wife. I will never let that happen again!”

“One, we're not married.” He grabbed his bow back. “Two, I'm not trying to do that.” He turned his back and started walking towards the stairs. “Three, until I get back you’re not going outside those fences.”

He could hear her following him. “How are you gonna stop me?” Her voice was full of contempt, something he never thought he would hear from her towards him. He clenched his fist and turned, hitting it against the metal rail. He didn't want to return to the man on the farm. The one who and yelled horrible things to her face and almost hit her.

“I’ll call an emergency meeting of the council. Who do you think they'll side with?”

He wouldn't actually do it. It was bad enough that everybody knew that they were in a relationship. The light teasing got on his nerves. Even worse that anybody left inside were overhearing this fight.

“You're a bastard.” She told him very, very softly.

That broke the hold he had on his temper. He didn't even try to stop or quiet the words that came out. They were loud and ugly and at the moment he didn't care.“And you’re a selfish bitch.”

He watched as she absorbed his words and her face changed from anger to a deep sadness. She nodded and turned back towards her cell, pulling her rifle from her shoulder.

 

He stormed down the stairs and through the Block. Beth was standing in the door of her cell, her eyes wide as she clutched Judith. He felt shame color his face as he passed without a glance. Glenn was waiting at the entrance and wisely didn’t comment.

At the car, he briefly whispered to Maggie, who glanced back at him in shock. The urge to yell was strong, but he resisted it.

Great. Now he was able to restrain himself.

“What if I drive?” Glenn quietly suggested. Daryl threw him the keys and climbed in the back seat.

Neither of them tried to draw him into conversation, which was good. He was in absolutely no mood to speak.

He hadn't meant to say that to her. He just wanted her to see reason. Her inability to do so had made him turn into his father. His father called his mother that—and worse—so much that it was almost like the man had forgotten her name. Daryl had once sworn to never say that to a woman he cared about. Arguing made that promise go right out the window.

And to her of all women.

Damn.

He felt the anger bubble just under the surface. Anger at her for starting the fight, but mostly anger at himself for losing control.

 

Walkers were the perfect way to vent that anger. The store they were at was full of them. He charged through, bolt after bolt going into their skulls. As each one fell it dissipated. As he retrieved the bolts, he saw Maggie and Glenn looking at him warily.

“What?” He growled.

“You need to get your mind on this mission.” Maggie ordered, grabbing a handheld basket.

Daryl scoffed even though she was right. The shame grew until it overwhelmed what was left of the anger.

“I’ve done the same thing.” Glenn told him quietly. There had been some times when Glenn was more enthusiastic than usual about putting down walkers. When he didn’t respond, Glenn handed him a box. “Here. Yeah, I figured it out. I’m not stupid.”

Daryl stared at the box, shame becoming dread.

 

The run was a success. Thanks to Glenn’s almost scary ability to find hidden things they were able to get more bandages and various ointments to further stock the infirmary. 

At the next store Daryl was more cautious in his behavior.

Maggie was after something specific, so while Glenn helped her, Daryl looked through random posters. He found one of a tropical beach and rolled it up.

“Found it.” Glenn called. He returned from the back carrying a large bag of potting soil.

“What’s that for?” Daryl asked. They had plenty of dirt in the ground.

“Beth wants to grow flowers. This is for until they are ready to go in the ground.” Maggie explained, her tone daring him to say something negative.

He was just pissing off all the women today, wasn’t he?

“Alright.”

Maggie marched off to the car, Glenn following with the bag of soil. As he passed Daryl he looked a little regretful. “Yes, she knows.”

“Just couldn't keep your big mouth shut, could you?”

 

When they got back to the prison, Daryl tried to delay the inevitable by helping to unpack the car. Maggie was having none of it, so he grabbed the poster and the box and went in search of Carol.

She was in the food storage area of D Block, sorting through a bin of onions.

“Hey.” He entered the room, fully expecting an onion to come flying at his head.

She slowly stood and turned to him, leaning against the bin. “Hey.”

They stood in awkward silence for a few minutes until he held out the poster as a peace offering. “I got you something.”

“Don’t.” She looked at the poster like it was a rat.

“Huh?”

“Don’t argue with me, call me names, and then return with gifts.”

Damn it. Then how was it supposed to work? “I’m sorry.”

She crossed her arms. “Ok.”

He held out the box. “Maybe we should find out before we go any further.”

She grabbed it and headed to the bathroom.

 

While she was gone he tried to figure out what the hell to do. She didn't want gifts as an apology, and he wasn't too good with words. How the hell was he supposed to get through this?

If there was any getting through this. Maybe this was it. The end. He had said the unforgivable and destroyed one of the few good things in his life.

 

How had they even gotten to this point? It had been really, really good for a while. He had learned things about her that he had never thought possible. Like the fact that she denied being ticklish on her sides, and he enjoyed proving her wrong. Or that the food she missed the most was pineapple ice cream.  


But then one morning Maggie had asked her if she needed to pick up any woman supplies for her on the run. Carol had shaken her head no.  


When he figured out what that meant, he had confronted her later. She had argued with him. Something about lack of enough food…always being irregular…a very slim possibility because she was forty-two… He hadn't really listened. He had always avoided anything having to do with that aspect of womanly life. Besides, there was still the possibility, and that was all that mattered. So he told her that he would pick up a test on the upcoming run, and that she was not going on it.  


That was when it all went to hell.

 

She returned holding the stick wrapped in paper. He looked at her, panic so strong that he was surprised she didn't know it. “Well?”

“Negative, like I told you it would be. I’m not pregnant.” She shoved the test at him.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he looked at the single pink line. Now he didn't have to think any further about the topic.

And he could try to fix his even bigger mistake.

“This can’t happen again.” She told him, interrupting his thoughts.

Did she mean another scare or the whole thing in general? “Alright…”

“I mean it, Daryl. You can’t run my life. It is mine. I make the choices when it comes to personal matters. You can’t take that away just because…”

“I know. I’m sorry. I just couldn't stand the thought of you out there if you were carrying my kid.” The minute it became a maybe, a fierce protective feeling overcame him. It was his maybe family, and he wouldn't let anything happen to it if he could help it.

But he didn’t know how to tell her this, or even if she would listen.

“Lori had to be. It can’t be avoided.”

That was probably not the best example to use, but he wisely kept his mouth shut about it. “I’m sorry. Really, really sorry.”

She seemed to take his apology as the truth. “I am too.”

He allowed himself to look at her. He needed to ask, but wasn't sure he wanted the answer. “We good then?”

She gave him a long look. Yeah, it was over. He had ruined it. He sighed and turned to leave. “Almost.” That stopped him in his tracks. She walked up to him and looked him straight in the eyes. “Don’t you ever, ever say that to me again. Understand?”

“How bout we both agree to be adults and not call each other anything bad?”

She smiled. “Even better.”

He held up the poster. “I’ll give this to you on a better day?” He asked, wanting confirmation that they were still together.

She nodded.


	7. First I Love You

No matter what time it was, if she was still awake Daryl would make sure to say goodnight to her before heading to his cell. Sometimes there would be a kiss. Sometimes he even stayed for a moment. Not necessarily talking, but just sitting together. That was usually after a bad day. It had almost become a ritual. It was nice. Pleasant. She liked it.

At the same time, she wanted it to change a little.

So she had an idea. A crazy idea. One that would probably blow up in her face, but she was going to go for it.

 

When he poked his head around the curtain, she motioned for him to come inside. She gathered her courage…well, she had been gathering it for several days. “Daryl?” He just crossed his arms and waited. “What if you didn't have to stop here to say goodnight?”

“Huh? You want me to stop?”

Ok, so she was going to have to just say it. “Do you want to share a room with me? Here?” She gestured around the cell.

He looked stunned. Completely and utterly stunned. She felt stupid and shook her head. Well, there was no taking it back, but she didn't have to press any further. 

“Goodnight, Daryl.” He left quicker than was necessary.

“Damn it.” Things had got back to normal after the fight, even improved, and now she had ruined it. She lay down on her bunk without even changing into her pajamas and silently berated herself until she fell into a fitful sleep.

 

He avoided her after that. They had never been demonstrative in public, but there were no more little touches or half smiles. He didn't stop to say goodnight. There were definitely no more visits to the file room.

“You ok?” Beth asked one morning after watching Daryl take a bowl of food without a word.

“Why wouldn't I be?” She mashed up some carrots and cucumbers into a paste for Judith.

Beth was quiet as she fed the baby and Carol felt relieved. She didn't want to talk about it, especially to an eighteen year old who had had maybe two relationships in her life. Teen ones at that.

“I want you guys to be happy like my Mamma and Daddy were.” Beth said when Carol sat next to her to eat.

That made her set down her fork. It was sweet. Sad, naive, and sweet. At one time in her life she had hoped for the same, and thought she had it. A fist to the face had been a quick wake up call.

“Beth…your parents were rare.” She gave the teen a sad smile. “Most people don’t get that, especially now.”

Beth firmly shook her head. “No. Look at Maggie and Glenn! It could still happen. We’re safe now. I refuse to believe that people can no longer find love and happiness. You two love each other. I know it.”

Carol sighed and returned to her breakfast. A few minutes later Beth spotted her boyfriend and hurried off.

 

Beth’s words stuck with her the rest of the day. Love? She hadn't even thought of it like that. Refused to think of it. Hell, they hadn't even defined what they were. A couple? Friends with Benefits? None of those seemed right.

She didn't feel in love. Not like it was with Ed. But she had been twenty four then. Naive and idealistic. Too many romance novels had made her want hearts and flowers and romance and Happily Ever After.

Daryl gave her none of that. Hearts? No. He had given her a warm, soft pillow made from rabbit fur, and a poster of a beach. Flowers? Only twice. Once to give her comfort, and once on her grave. She still had that one, now dried and tucked into a book. Romance? He was probably the least traditionally romantic person in the world. Happily Ever After? No such thing before and no such thing now.

But love? She enjoyed being with him…

He cared about her. Truly cared. He had from the beginning; right after Ed had been bit. He had watched out for her until she was strong enough to watch out for herself. But that didn't make him quit.

He understood her in ways that the others didn't. He knew where she had been and how hard she was trying.

He was the first person she sought in a room or outside, even if it was just to make sure that he was still around.

He was great in bed. Passionate but never rough; never pushing her into what she didn't like or want to do.

She didn't even want to think about being without him. Eventually it would happen and she would be. Or, as she suspected, she would go before him. It was inevitable. But right now—no.

She tried to deny it, but she finally realized what all of that meant. And she had to let him know.

 

Daryl had not been at dinner, so after it she knocked on the door of his cell. There was no answer, and she pulled aside the curtain. It was empty. The bed was stripped, all of his items gone. He didn't even want to be next door anymore. She ignored the hurt and forced herself not to give in to the urge to cry. There was no use getting upset. He wasn't dead. Besides, she was too old to cry over a man.

“Carol?” He was in the doorway. “Over here.” 

 

He entered her room. His bow was tucked in a corner. He had set a board across the sink to make a shelf for his things, and one across the toilet for his clothes.

“I don’t really have anything. Never much for decorating like the others.” He told her. He gestured to where the top bunk had been taken down and placed next to the bottom, changed to make a bigger bed. “Glenn helped me with that. He knew what to do.”

She nodded and let herself pause before speaking. “You sure?”

“I’m here, ain't I?” He responded, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah. You are.”

 

He didn't actually stay that night. He had watch duty half the night, and apparently not wanting to wake her, had returned to his room. She found him asleep wrapped in a blanket when she got up to begin her day.

 

The day proved to be a bad one. Not a death or walker disaster, but one willed with ordinary bad. Half of breakfast had burned. Then several of the D Block people had left laundry duty because of a non-related petty argument. That had taken some sorting out and resulted a stern warning from “the council” to not let it affect community operations again. During story time one of the children had vomited, delaying things while the room could be cleaned and aired. Finally though, Daryl had returned with a deer, and that had made most people happy. But she had then had to figure out what to do with it, and that just added to the headache of the day.

 

So by the time she gratefully climbed into her bed, she was completely exhausted. She was already half asleep and barely stirred when she felt him join her.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.” He whispered when she shifted to give him more rom.

“You didn’t. And next time, you don’t have to go next door if I’m asleep.” She explained waking up a little more.

“Alright.” He sounded strange and she rolled over to face him. He looked awkward and uncomfortable, so she gave him their nightly kiss.

“I mean it. I won’t get mad.” She yawned and closed her eyes.

“Heard you had a bad day.”

She nodded, her head hitting his shoulder. “Yeah. But a good bad. If we can have more bad days like this…” She trailed off, falling deeper into sleep.

“Yeah.”

She shifted so that her forehead against his shoulder, but the rest of her was not touching him. She didn't know if he liked his space to sleep or not. She felt his fingers in her hair, and it relaxed her. Whether it was almost being completely asleep that did it, or the feeling of being close to him, she wasn't sure. What she did know was very quietly the words “Love you.” left her mouth. She was awake enough to realize what she had said, and to hope that he didn't hear it.

His fingers stilled, so he probably had. She just froze and tried to not move until she was asleep.

“Same.” She heard whispered as she finally drifted off.

 

Daryl hadn't run away in the middle of the night. She awoke to find him on his stomach, one arm and leg dangling off the bed with the other arm tucked under his head. His pillow was missing.

She tried to move so as to not wake him, but the minute she had really shifted, he raised his head, alert. “Sorry.”

He ran his hand over his face and pushed himself into a sitting position. His hair was sticking up and the sight made her almost laugh.

“Go back to sleep. You know I get up earlier than everyone.” She got up and started to change, very aware of the intimacy of changing with him in the room. He had, of course, seen her without clothing, but this was different.

When she turned back, he was once again asleep, this time sprawled out. Apparently his pillow had been under him.

 

She couldn't help but be in a good mood. Patrick commented on it, and she just shrugged her shoulders in response. Almost an hour later she watched Daryl, hair now combed and stylishly messy, walk towards the grill. People called out friendly greetings, most of which he ignored.

She couldn't help but remind him that she liked him before everybody else. He responded normally, but a quick glance let her know that he really didn’t want her to stop.

Yes, today was going to be another good day.


End file.
